


Ask What You Will Of Me

by accidentallymelted



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 08:04:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accidentallymelted/pseuds/accidentallymelted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valjean stops Javert from jumping off the bridge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ask What You Will Of Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rewindthat6](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rewindthat6/gifts).



> So this is for Kris, who incepted me into writing this, audienced it, and then also beta'd. 
> 
> Italicized text is from page 1005 of my abridged copy of Les Miserables, i.e. not mine. A number of other lines have also been borrowed, in one form or another, from the novel.

_. . . Javert remained for some minutes motionless, gazing into that opening of darkness; he contemplated the invisible with a fixedness which resembled attention. The water gurgled. Suddenly he took off his hat and laid it on the edge of the quai. A moment afterwards, a tall and black form, which from the distance some belated passer-by might have taken for a phantom, appeared standing on the parapet, bent towards the Seine. . ._

Just as Javert was about to spring into the Seine there came a shout behind him. The policeman's instinct prevailed and he turned towards the shout, only to be grabbed around the waist and hauled bodily from the parapet. Two bodies tumbled to the pavement, and Javert, to his horror, found himself face to face with the cause of his recent turmoil.

"Valjean," he spat.

"Javert," returned the other, shifting to pin the inspector more firmly to the pavement. "What is the meaning of this?"

"The meaning?" Javert turned his head aside and stared bitterly at the Seine. "What meaning? There is no meaning, anymore."

"I would not have you say so," Valjean said soberly. "What caused this?"

"You spared my life," Javert said, still staring at the Seine. "And I, in turn, spared yours. We are even, now, in your God's sight - you have no need to plague me more."

"I would disagree," Valjean said, mildly. "I have spared your life not once but twice tonight, it would seem. And now you are again in my debt."

Javert closed his eyes in anguish, for in his heart he knew it to be true. "Ask, then, what you will of me," he said, defeated, turning his head to face his fate. Valjean surveyed his face and nodded slowly.

"I would ask you to help me return home," he said, wincing. “For it is late, and I am weary.”

"And if I do this, am I released from my debt?"

"No," Valjean said, and his face was full of shadows. "I am afraid I cannot release you yet."

Javert nodded his acquiescence sharply. He had known better than to hope for such clemency from a former criminal. Valjean stood to his feet and offered a hand to Javert, who refused it, not wanting to further unbalance the ledger between them. Valjean's smile was quick and rueful, as though he knew Javert's mind.

“Come then,” he said. “It is not far to le Rue de l’Homme Armé.”

0o0o0o0o0

It was not far at all to le Rue de l’Homme Armé, and Javert left Valjean in the care of a young woman who looked vaguely familiar. The young woman introduced herself as Cosette Fauchelevant, and had Javert deposit Valjean on his bed before she began fussing over him. Javert excused himself and left.

He returned one week later to find Valjean on his way out the door, holding a large package of linen.

“Valjean,” he said.

“Javert,” Valjean acknowledged. “Why have you come here?”

“I owe you a debt,” he said. “My conscience will not be at ease until I have repaid it. Have you anything you would ask of me?”

The look Valjean gave him was startled and measuring. He shifted the package of linen in his arms before offering, “Mademoiselle Cosette has asked me to buy bread and fruit on my errands. I find I have not the time to visit the market before the best wares are gone. I would be grateful if you would do this for me.”

Javert inclined his head stiffly, sure that he was being mocked. “I will do this, and return.”

When he returned from the market, Valjean had not reappeared from his errands. Javert made conversation with Cosette while he waited, and found that she was intelligent, well-spoken, and desperately in love. Valjean returned by and by, and seemed surprised to find Javert waiting for him.

“Am I released from my debt?” he asked, when Cosette had disappeared into an inner room to make more linen. Valjean shook his head.

“I am afraid I cannot release you yet,” he said, and Javert growled in frustration.

“I will return,” he promised, standing upon the doorstep.

“I will be waiting,” Valjean replied.

0o0o0o0o0

This pattern continued for several months. Once a week Javert made the journey to le Rue de l’Homme Armé, Number 7, and each time he was met at the door by Valjean, carrying a package of linen. Javert asked what he might do to be free of his debt, and Valjean assigned him some small task. Once accomplished, Javert would converse with Cosette, and as such remained updated on the progress of the invalid Marius, who, it was revealed, was the young man Valjean had been carrying when Javert found him by the sewers. Javert himself was not much interested in the plight of Marius, but had not the heart to forbid Cosette from speaking of him. Valjean would return home and the following exchange would be had:

“I have completed my task. Am I released from my debt?”

“I am afraid I cannot release you yet.”

Javert did not bother to hide his frustration, but he returned each week in the hope that this time, he would be released. Time and again he was denied, but his was the patience that had tracked the convict Jean Valjean across France and back for 20 years and so he returned, week after week.

One day, Javert came across a carriage and man dressed in livery, loitering outside the house at le Rue de l’Homme Armé and looking as though he were waiting for something. He nodded to him as he knocked at the door and was the recipient of a long, penetrating look.

Valjean flung open the door after a few short moments, flushed and in his shirtsleeves with his cravat dangling from one hand. “Oh,” he said, when he saw Javert. “You are here - of course. I had forgotten it was Thursday.”

Javert merely raised his eyebrows and waited for his word, but Valjean looked uncomfortable and worried. “Come inside,” he said, motioning Javert into the house. Javert removed his cap and followed Valjean inside, ignoring the way the liveried man was looking at him with curiosity alight in his eyes.

“Papa?” came the voice of Cosette, as soon as the door was shut. “Who was it, are we still to come, he did not send another man to bid us to wait?”

“No, Cosette, we are still to come. It is only Javert.”

“Oh!” Cosette came floating out of her bedroom, dressed in her finest gown and glowing as though she had been set alight from the inside. “Monsieur Javert, wonderful news,” she said, rapturously. “Marius is restored to his health, and he has asked to see me!” She clasped her hands before her and assumed the expression of a rapturous saint.

“My felicitations,” said Javert, who felt as though perhaps he should bow. He did not, but stood instead straight and unbending, uncomfortable as always in their home.

“Papa, you must finish dressing,” Cosette scolded him gently. “We are to leave immediately.”

“Of course,” Valjean said, and he vanished back inside his room to finish dressing, leaving Javert with Cosette, who immediately began enumerating unto him the many and varied charms of the newly awoken Marius. Javert was well acquainted with these charms and their effect on Cosette, but he listened to them with the same attentiveness he had always granted her. She had not yet finished when Valjean emerged from his room, dressed in his finest suit of clothes and carrying an old book under one arm. Cosette immediately left Javert and went to Valjean, smiling radiantly.

“Javert, I have no need of you today. You may go,” Valjean said, as he took Cosette by the arm and began to lead her to the carriage.

“Am I released from my debt?” Javert asked, bewildered but determined.

“I am afraid I cannot release you yet,” Valjean replied, but he sounded distracted, as though he were repeating the familiar words by rote. Javert’s eyes narrowed but he nodded and left, aware and uncaring of the curious eyes of the liveried man with the carriage.

0o0o0o0o0

Over the course of the next few weeks, Javert found to his irritation that Valjean was no easier to find when his address was known than he had been when Javert had not known if he were alive or dead. That Valjean was still present at that address was obvious - Javert had inquired of his neighbors, who had informed him that Valjean and Cosette had been seen climbing in and out of the carriage that must belong to Monsieur Gillenormand.

Javert was frustrated by this news, and on the first few occasions had returned to his house with a feeling of great bitterness and confusion at being unable to work off his debt. After the third time he arrived only to find the house empty, he noticed that the garden outside was overgrown with weeds and clogged with dead things. He hesitated for a few moments before removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeves and setting to restore the garden to order. He felt a sense of satisfaction in the work, as he moved closer to clearing his debt with Valjean. It had seemed to him, during the weeks he had not seen Valjean, that he would never be able to settle his debt. The thought had left a sour taste in his mouth and he had been unable to sleep that night.

He had not been at the task for very long when a carriage pulled up outside the house and Valjean and Cosette climbed out. Cosette was glowing as though lit from within but Valjean looked drawn and worn and startled to find Javert in his garden.

“Monsieur Javert!” Cosette called when she noticed him. “It is a wonderful day, is it not? How long have you been here? Were you waiting for us? We were visiting Marius and his grandfather. Oh! Did you hear? Marius is recovered! We are to be married in February. That is in three weeks time. I am the happiest of humans, truly. You must come to the wedding Monsieur Javert - such an old friend of my father’s must be present.”

“No, Mademoiselle, I cannot,” Javert replied, but Cosette would not hear of it. Jean Valjean looked surprised but amused and appeared willing to humor Cosette in inviting Javert to the wedding. Under duress, Javert found himself agreeing that he would go, and was bewildered afterwards. He was the very definition of iron will, but Cosette was like a sudden application of heat, causing his will to buckle.

0o0o0o0o0

The day of the wedding dawned clear and bright, which was taken by the ecstatic bride to be a sign of God’s blessing on her marriage. Javert, stiffly upright and uncomfortable in his dress uniform, stood to attention as Cosette floated down the aisle, escorted by a well-dressed older gentleman that Javert took to be Marius’ grandfather. The groom’s face was lit by a happiness so sublime that Javert could not gaze on it full-on, and instead observed Jean Valjean, who followed the bride down the aisle, one arm cradled in a sling. Javert’s eyebrows contracted slightly at the sight, as he could not recall Valjean being injured, but the priest called the ceremony to order and Javert’s attention returned to the wedding in progress.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of constant motion. The supreme happiness of those two newly wedded creatures swept out and encompassed all who saw them, so that to their eyes, the world had a rosy glow about it. Javert could not later remember the direct procession of events, but finally it was evening and a banquet had been prepared in the dining room of the house on the Rue des Filles du Calvaire. The wedding party began to take their seats about the table, and there was one chair conspicuously empty.

“Monsieur Fauchelevent?”

He did not emerge. Monsieur Gillenormand called for the butler, who informed the party that Monsieur Fauchelevent had left, claiming an aggravation of his injury. At this, Javert stood.

“I will see to him,” he said, bowing to the wedding party. Cosette smiled gratefully at him.

“Please inform my father that I am dreadfully cross with him. To miss dinner, on my wedding day! It is intolerable.”

“Madame,” Javert returned, placing one hand across his heart to acknowledge her. The butler fetched his hat, and as he left he overheard the grandfather calling to Marius to take the seat that had been reserved for Jean Valjean, as well as Cosette’s delighted laughter at this change in the seating arrangements.

0o0o0o0o0

Javert made good time to le Rue de l’Homme Armé. He paused for a moment outside of the little house, frowning at the darkened windows, before he saw a light flicker in one of the bedrooms. He entered quietly and started up the stairs. As he neared the landing, he saw Valjean kneeling by his bed, a set of child’s clothing laid out upon it. And as he was about to set foot in the room, Valjean’s head fell upon the bed and his body was wracked with heaving sobs. Javert paused, struck by the depth of Valjean’s grief, before turning and letting himself out as silently as he had come in. He would bear Cosette’s grievances another time.

0o0o0o0o0

He presented himself at the Rue des Filles du Calvaire on Thursday, which was three days after the wedding. The butler conducted him into the hallway and enquired after his reasons for visiting. “I am come to see Monsieur Fauchelevant,” Javert replied. The butler looked shocked for a moment before smoothing his face over.

“Monsieur Fauchelevant is not here,” he said. Javert removed his hat to indicate his willingness to stay and wait for Monsieur Fauchelevant to return and the butler’s nostrils quivered. “Monsieur Fauchelevant has elected to remain at le Rue de l’Homme Armé.” Javert put his hat back on.

“My thanks, monsieur,” he said, nodding at the butler. “If you will excuse me, I have business to discuss with him.”

He spent the trip to le Rue de l’Homme Armé embroiled in confusion. He knew that there had been a room reserved for Valjean in the house at the Rue des Filles du Calvaire, and it seemed strange to him that Valjean had not chosen to avail himself of it, but had instead chosen to remain by himself at le Rue de l’Homme Armé.

When Valjean came to open the door, he seemed astonished to find Javert on the other side. “Javert,” he greeted him courteously. “To what do I owe the honor of your presence?”

“Your daughter sent me with a message,” Javert replied. “She is furious with you, for missing dinner on your wedding day. I came after you to deliver the message at once, but you were indisposed at the time.” Valjean’s face was white and thin, and for a moment it appeared as though Javert had stabbed him through the heart. “I must ask, as well,” Javert said, face and voice deliberately blank, “why you have chosen to remain in residence here, when Madame Cosette was very clear about her intent to house you with her.”

Valjean’s face was a mask of agony, the skin drawn tight against his face. “It is for her own good,” he said, turning away from Javert and bracing one hand on the wall. “What more can I do?”

Javert remained silent, as he had no comment on the matter. Eventually Valjean took a deep breath and straightened. “Why are you here, Javert?”

“I owe you a debt,” Javert replied. “Is there anything you would ask of me?” Valjean laughed bitterly and shook his head.

“Not today, Javert,” he said. The lines in his face had been etched deeper since the last time Javert had seen him.

“Then am I released from my debt?” Javert asked. Valjean hesitated a long moment, staring at Javert. He must have been looking for something that he did not find, however, and eventually shook his head.

“I am afraid I cannot release you yet,” he said. Javert nodded stiffly and left the house.

0o0o0o0o0

Weeks passed. Javert returned each week to inquire of Valjean if there was a service he could perform, and each week Valjean sent him away without a task. He continued to refuse to release Javert from his debt as well, which caused great frustration within Javert, as well as a feeling of helplessness and despair.

One day he came to le Rue de l’Homme Armé and Valjean did not come to the door. Javert frowned at the door - this was unprecedented - and went to consult with the neighbors. No one had seen Valjean leave his house in two days. Javert thanked the neighbors and went back to Valjean’s door, which was unlocked. He came inside and up the stairs, shocked at the silence of the house. Valjean was lying in his bed, unmoving, and there was a full plate of food sitting untouched beside him. Javert drew himself up in the doorway. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

Valjean turned his head. He bore a striking resemblance to a skeleton, with eyes that were dull and lifeless. “Ah, Javert,” he said. His voice was thin and strained. “I have no tasks for you today. You may go.”

“You mean to die without releasing me from my debt,” Javert realized, and became at that moment so enraged that he was incapable of speech. Valjean simply nodded.

“Once I release you from your debt, you will return to the Seine and kill yourself,” he said simply. “I cannot have the knowledge of your death on my conscience.” Javert struggled for words for a moment before giving up and crossing to the bed, where he raised Valjean into a sitting position and reached for the plate.

“Eat,” he said, holding a piece of bread to Valjean’s mouth. Valjean turned his face away and stared at the wall. Javert grabbed him by the shoulders. “You must eat!” he cried. “You cannot die! I have not dismissed the debt I owe you!”

Valjean reached out a hand and clasped Javert on the arm. “I transfer your debt to me to Cosette,” he said, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes. Javert stood and backed away from the bed, horrified, then turned and fled the room without a backward glance.

0o0o0o0o0

Javert’s feet carried him to the Rue des Filles du Calvaire without conscious thought. When he looked up and realized where he was, his first instinct was to return to le Rue de l’Homme Armé and argue again with Valjean about his desire for death. Javert had realized, however, over the months of their interchange, that there was but one force on this earth capable of subverting the will of Jean Valjean, and it was with this in mind that he marched up to the house and rang the bell.

The butler, if he was astonished to see Javert again, did not show it. Instead he ushered Javert inside and bid him wait in the small downstairs sitting room while he fetched Monsieur and Madame Pontmercy.

“Monsieur Javert!” cried Cosette when she entered the room, following closely on Marius’ heels. Javert rose and bowed his head. “I had not expected to see you again! What brings you here this afternoon?”

“I have been to see your father,” he said. “He is very ill, madame, and he refuses that which would make him well again.” At this news, Cosette became very agitated, while Marius stood like a statue behind her, frozen.

“My father!” she cried. “Who is this man, whom you call my father? He refuses to come and stay with us! He insists we must meet in a basement room! He sends away the chairs! He does not come to call!” She gazed up at Javert, her sweet face flushed with temper. “I sent a maid to his house just this morning, to ask why he did not come. She said he is leaving on a journey. And now you say he has lied to me?”

“If he has lied to you, it was to protect you,” Javert said, certain of this as he was certain of nothing else. “He has given up everything else in his life, in order to protect you. Will you not come, and convince him to remain with the living?”

Cosette wavered a moment, her anger with her father warring with her kind nature, before dipping her head in assent. “I will come,” she said. At this, Marius cleared his throat.

“My dear,” he said, and something in his voice caught Javert’s attention. There was a strained quality to his look, and Javert frowned. Surely Marius could have no objection to his wife visiting her father, the man who had saved his life? “We had plans today, did we not?”

Cosette turned to him, a smile wavering on her face. “We did, and I am sorry, Marius, but I must go.” She must have caught the spasm of disgust that passed across Marius’ face at this, and frowned. “Marius, what is it? You have some objection to me going?”

“I did not wish for you to ever know this. I am sorry that I must be the one to inform you that your father,” Marius said, and Javert felt a scowl begin on his face at the tone of disgust in his voice, “is a criminal. A thief who escaped from prison, and who is already thought dead. Is it not best to simply allow him his choice?”

Cosette’s hand flew to cover her mouth, and Marius reached out and pulled her towards him, glaring at Javert as though he were the cause of all of this. Javert looked back stonily. “I owe him a debt, which he has not allowed me to repay. In fact, he transferred this debt to Madame Pontmercy, and to her I discharge it by offering this knowledge that she has not - Monsieur Fauchelevant is indeed the criminal known as Jean Valjean. This I know because I pursued him for 20 years. The criminal Jean Valjean is, however, a good man. And you yourself are in his debt, Monsieur Pontmercy, in the matter of a life saved - his and mine. For I was one of the two men who delivered you to this doorstep, the night of the barricade, and the criminal Valjean the other.”

Marius went white to the lips and swayed as though he were about to faint. Only his grip on Cosette kept him upright. “What do you say?” he asked, and Javert answered,

“I came upon a man carrying what appeared to be a corpse at the mouth of the sewer, on the night of the barricade. That man was Jean Valjean, and the corpse he carried was you, teetering on the brink of death. I meant to take him into custody but he pleaded for your life, and as there had been such senseless loss of life already that night I called for a carriage, and we brought you here. Therefore as your life was saved, you owe the criminal Valjean a debt, which must be repaid.”

“Yes,” Marius said faintly, gazing into the distance as though he saw something there. “Yes,” he repeated, firmer this time, turning to look Javert in the eye. “A debt is owed, one that I cannot possibly repay. I can but try,” he said, and released Cosette to open the door and call for a coach to be readied. Javert nodded then, and departed in the knowledge that his duty had been discharged.

0o0o0o0o0

Valjean was still abed when Javert came to call the next Thursday, but he was seated against the wall and his eyes were bright again and clear. He smiled at first when Javert entered the room, but then arranged his face in a stern expression. “I am surprised by you, Javert.”

“I am not sorry for my actions,” Javert said, staring straight ahead. He saw one corner of Valjean’s mouth twitch.

“I am not sorry for them either,” Valjean said after a moment. “Cosette says that you have discharged your debt to us, and should be released. I must admit, I am forced to agree with her - the doctor says that I was very near to death.”

“I am afraid that I must disagree,” Javert said, still not looking directly at Valjean. “I am given to understand that I have broken your trust, and caused Marius to break trust with you as well, by revealing your true name and nature. I find myself in your debt yet again.”

There was a long silence, and Javert finally turned to see Valjean eyeing him with an evaluating gleam in his eye. At last he nodded, and said, “So you are. I shall have to think of some way that you may begin to discharge it.”

Javert let out a breath. “Ask whatever you will of me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I will admit, this is not my usual - but Kris was talking about the type of fic she really wanted to read in the Les Mis fandom and I am a total sucker, so this happened. Thanks, Kris, for pushing me outside of my comfort zone, I guess - and also thanks for reading along and beta'ing this as it came into being. 
> 
> Standard disclaimer applies: I own nothing, nothing is true, and I am not profiting from any of this. I am on tumblr as accidentallymelted, feel free to stop by and say hi!


End file.
